A Patient Noiseless Spider
by Jacky Morgan
Summary: Vriska isolated herself for many sweeps, and it was an almost insurmountable task to find a real friend again. However, there's someone out there for everyone, and that someone is John Egbert. Johnvris, one-shot.


Vriska hated to admit that sometimes, she was lonely.

As much as she enjoyed getting rid of those who she knew might impose a threat, she was no fool. She knew what she was doing. She was purposely burning bridges with other trolls and making them hate her. She knew was making people want to forget she existed, and she was making people never want to come within an inch of her (if they ever were cursed with the displeasure of having to approaching her). She looked as if she wanted to kill someone, no matter what mood she was in. Vriska was dangerous, and it was a rigorously enforced motive that she set upon herself to scare the shit out of people. She wanted people to hate, fear, and at the same time respect her. If they did that, they'd never backstab Vriska Serket. She could be alone, high and mighty.

Being high and mighty however did not mean she'd forget all of her loneliness and throes. She liked to pretend it would, but she knew, deep in the depths of her cold blue heart, that even if she was the most feared and respected troll on Alternia, it wouldn't solve the problem that remained a thorn pulsating with an ungodly pain in her side. She was, no matter how thin she sliced it, lonely. She was morbid at times when she had nobody to talk to. She was very perturbed whenever something abhorrent happened in her life and she couldn't tell anyone, even if the feeling that generated sunk into her like a rock in the water (and it remained there for just as long). But she shoved these feelings away because she didn't want anyone to know the big, bad Vriska was lonesome.

Her loneliness was quelled one day by someone. Amidst all of her enemies, Vriska did have one friend. A friend she knew wouldn't betray her, just because he was such a gullible idiot, and because he, unlike any_ troll_ she'd met before, he actually seemed sort of nice. This friend's name was John. That nerd, that idiot, that loser who didn't know the first thing about what it meant to be a winner and a hero-was her best and her only real friend.

Vriska had to credit herself for staying friend with John for so long-since he didn't talk extensively with other trolls about Vriska's colleagues, she would have a very simplistic start with John. He wouldn't have rumors of her being a warped sociopath to blacken his view of her, so he wouldn't be recluse and he wouldn't have an irrational fear of her. Vriska also took it upon herself to be nice to him, but to also be serious whenever she said something cordial. Of course, some sarcasm slipped out now and then, but she could hardly help that. Of course, being genuine all of the time was a no-go-Vriska had tricked John into dying so he could reach god tier, and she didn't even tell him her real name when they first started conversing, and she'd tiptoed around some of his questions from time to time, simply because she didn't want John knowing about the unstable relationship she'd had with her lusus, or how she secretly felt obscenely forlorn. The softer sides of her, her weaknesses, she kept a padlocked secret.

But she thought that if she were ever to undo that padlock, it'd be for John. He wouldn't be as calamitous as her troll friends. Given all she'd learned about human culture, she doubted he would even think of a way to use it against her. Humans were naturally benign, Vriska had realized over time. They wouldn't backstab her for no reason. She'd finally found a friend in a world of people who hated her. She'd felt alone for so long, and here was this complete doofus who fell into her friendship web.

When the deceptive Thief of Light had dragged herself in front of a computer in her last moments, she contemplated telling John everything. She had conjured it wouldn't be absolutely horrid if he found out now she was abashed by her lusus and how deep down, she'd only wanted a friend in her life.

After all, now that she was dying, and her cerulean blood was oozing from the hole Terezi had torn into her chest, it didn't matter if John was planning on stabbing her in the back. She'd already been stabbed, after all.

* * *

Vriska didn't keep track of the time after she'd died. After, all, why should it matter how many sweeps had gone by? She was dead. She wasn't counting anything. She didn't even know if sweeps actually existed in dream bubbles. For all she knew, time was made so ludicrously insurmountable to understand, nobody bothered keeping track of time, just so they could give their think pans a break. Vriska fluttered above the sandy beaches she'd been trolling through for treasure for that unknown stretch of time, wearing of course her flamboyant orange god tier clothes (since her wings made flight much simpler). Vriska had often times imagined how invigorating flying over oceans and golden beaches might be if she could smell the ocean or feel the wind that was making her flight difficult-but her senses had been dulled ever since she died.

_Don't think about that_, Vriska thought to herself with acrid disdain, _that was a fucking mess. That's what your death was._

There was a lot of tumult going in Vriska's mind when she was stabbed with a pole-Vriska was caught by surprise when Terezi stabbed her. It was surprising because Vriska had always considered Terezi a sort of friend-a little on the loose side, but she always tried to keep her somewhat close-and having that pole jammed through her flesh just verified how cold-blooded trolls were. Her mind was a mess of questions and concerns when she had been punctured, as anyone's mind-but she felt it imperative to contact John before she died. He needed to know how she felt about him, even if she was ambiguous about it. She wanted John to know she cared about him, even if he was a gullible and scatterbrained pupa. She _had _to tell him before she choked her last breath.

The wind had died down, although it took a while for Vriska to realize this. She began her descent, and landed in the yellow sands with a throb of nostalgia. All the treasure hunting she'd done here! It was hard to believe her group had already found the treasure already, even if its purpose was still unknown to Vriska. She'd gone out saying she was looking for clues, but of course, it was just for her to contemplate. For the most part, she was angry at herself for yelling at John, and throwing an agglomeration of vulgar ignominies at him as well. She just needed the time to cool off, if she could cool off in this sweltering weather.

Vriska let out a heavy sigh and flopped down onto her back. She knew she couldn't really sleep, but she closed her eyes anyway. She'd never experienced sunlight before, but the heat she was feeling on her eyelids felt very nice. Soothing, even, which was an unusual feeling for Vriska, especially when she was far more prone to feeling an agonizing sense of guilt, hate, and vulnerability most of the time. She wished she could feel like this forever.

"It'd be like winning," Vriska said to her self with a complacent smirk, "all the time."

"What would?" a voice, clearly one close to her, inquired.

Vriska shot up, scrambling over herself and shaking her mess of thick black hair out of her face (as it'd fallen over her face in all the commotion she made getting up). She looked around wildly in both directions, and then upward. There was nobody standing near or flying above her-but Vriska recognized John's voice instantly. Where was he? He had the ability to turn into air, he may as well be everywhere around her! Frustrated, Vriska stood up.

"John, tell me where you are right now. This isn't funny."

Feeling a light tap on her shoulder, Vriska spun around, and saw the Heir of Breath himself, with an amused expression painted plainly on his face.

"Right here."

Vriska's blank dead eyes didn't elicit any emotion, but she was mortified. Of course, John didn't need to know this.

"Don't sneak up behind me like that, or you're ASKING for me to find a way to kill you," Vriska snarled. John laughed a response.

"You can't kill people in a dream bubble!"

"Yeah you can," she replied, in a rather aggravated tone, "don't you know what the demon was destroying when he blew up all of that area we used to find the treasure?"

"Uh...no, I didn't think of what those were."

"They were souls, John. He was probably blowing up all those souls, but I don't know why. Aranea thinks he's looking for someone. But what're _you_ doing here, anyway? I thought you had more important things to do once you zapped out of the cave."

"Oh, yeah, about that," John paused, and removed his glasses as his stared into the lenses blankly for a moment, "I ran into Dave and Karkat. Oh, and Jade. But I zapped away from all of them, and uh, after being teleported all over the place a little more, I ended up back here. I wonder if I'll stay in more than one place for a few seconds, actually..."

"You saw _Karkat_?"

"Yeah. I saw him die, actually-"

"He's _dead_? Then why haven't I seen him yet?"

"Because he was brought to life by this girl who looked sort of like a younger version of Nanna. Almost instantly. I think she killed him just so she could bring him back to life, actually."

"So she's a Hero of Life? Wow. Lucky you. Your new session has a Life player."

"How'd you know we-"

"Aradia told me."

"Oh. Yeah, I guess that makes sense, she was there with everyone when they went to the new session. Hey, I have a question, if you'll answer it."

Vriska didn't say anything for a moment. She only looked at the ground, swirling the fine golden sand around with one of her feet. Her last interaction with John had not been a pleasant one, and Vriska was certain this question from John would have something to do with it.

"Ask away. I know what you're going to say though."

"I guess I'm a predictable guy," John chuckled, or tried to, and then added "that, or you're using your psychic powers again. Did you mean what you said earlier? I mean when I said I wouldn't bring you back to life-I mean, not yet-and you flipped out. I didn't want to really offend you. I just wanted to be honest."

"Of _course _not. I was just mad. Wouldn't you be mad too if you spent sweeps upon sweeps in the same place, doing the same thing, on an endless repeat? Treasure hunting's fun, sure, but it gets old if you feel like you've been doing it forever. I was fed up with all of my time as a dead person. I wanted to be brought back to life, and when I found out that ring could do that, I jumped at the opportunity. I wasn't trying to offend you-well, not _really_-I was just sick to death of being dead. Plus, I'm the best warrior my session had. I'd be the most useful. It pissed me off knowing you wouldn't bring me back, so all I really thought about at that moment was how dumb you were for not doing it."

"Sure," John replied, "I honestly thought you were just mad too. Hey Vriska, if you don't mind me asking, you don't seem like you had a lot of friends before you met your ancestor-relative-person, since you're kind of dangerous, I guess. I'm just wondering, uh...did you have any friends before?"

Vriska had stopped moving her foot in the sand after she justified why she'd been so aberrant with John. She began doing this again, and appeared so engrossed in it, John had wondered if Vriska had even heard him. It had been almost five minutes later when Vriska slowly answered him.

"No."

"Wasn't that lonely?"

"Yes."

"Why didn't you ever say anything to anyone? Was it because you were always so mean?"

"Yes."

"Why didn't you..." John's voice trailed off as he tried to think of a way to phrase his sentence without sounding like he was castigating her. He furrowed his brow and looked at Vriska, disconcertedly looking at a rock she'd picked up.

"Why didn't you ever tell me?"

"I'm not sure," Vriska said, very slowly, "I guess I realized a little too late you humans are a lot less cold-blooded than trolls."

"I didn't know how weird trolls were until I met you and the others, just because I didn't know a lot about your culture or whatever. It makes sense if you didn't know about mine, and you found out late I wasn't gonna stab you in the back."

"Damn right it does."

"Why didn't you try making it up with anyone though? After you made them hate you, I mean?"

"I tried with Terezi," Vriska said, looking at John now, "and it didn't work. Trust me, I tried to stay friends with her. I really did. But in the end even that was a stupid idea, because she's the one who killed me-to protect who was alive from Jack, yes-but she still killed me. Nobody trusted _me_, John."

"I trusted you."

"I lied to you. A lot."

"I still trusted you."

"Doesn't that bother you? Doesn't that make you want to get back at me for being a dishonest bitch?"

"Nah," John said with a shrug, "I wouldn't be where I am now if not for you. Lying notwithstanding. Come _on_, Vriska, we're friends, right? Even if you lied a lot, you've helped me more. I don't know how trolls might view that, but in human culture, you'd be a good friend."

"I really wanted to be friends with someone, you know. Someone who I hadn't fucked up all relations with. I just wanted..."

John smiled.

"Yeah, I know."

"Really?"

"Yup."

Vriska smiled, her emotion clear as glass, even with her whited out eyes. It wasn't her usual sarcastic smile either-it was a genuine smile. A grin that expressed actual happiness. A beam that facilitated an ecstasy one only receives when discovering that they're a valued friend to somebody.

John embraced Vriska, surprised that he didn't go through her, likes ghosts did in his movies. Vriska was shocked at first, and she stood there blinking, thinking John was the biggest idiot who'd ever lived. How could he consider her a friend, after all she'd done? How could he actually care about her? Why did he actually care about her?

But as Vriska returned his embrace, she didn't care how stupid John was. Sure, he was a moron-but he was a damn nice one.

He was her best and only friend. He always would be too, she'd reckoned.

* * *

**A/N: **Hello! This is the first story I'm posting (officially) in the Homestuck fandom, as well as the first story for my new account here! I'd like to thank psychoInnocent for beta-reading this for me, as she was very helpful and polite throughout the whole process. You should totally message her if you need something beta-read! :)

For those of you who aren't too cognizant with Walt Whitman's work, _Patient Noiseless Spider _is a poem about a spider, who represents the reader, feeling very alone in the world, and through optimism or ignorance, constantly seeks companionship. However, the spider/reader can never find these companions, and begins to believe finding company is hopeless, and they ultimately feel alone and believe there is no one there for them. In this story, John jubilantly concludes the poem's question (id est, is the spider alone?) by basically saying that no, Vriska is not alone.

Also! I wrote this before 7/15/13's update, so yes, there's an anachronism here. Sorry! :(


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